


pick me up (and take me home again)

by viridae



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Reunions, Tenderness, just two boys learning to express emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridae/pseuds/viridae
Summary: After four months apart, Andrew and Neil finally reunite.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 303





	pick me up (and take me home again)

Neil pulls into the parking lot. The humming of the engine ceases, and the car goes abruptly still under him. For a moment, he sits in Atlanta International Airport’s parking lot in uneasy silence. 

He checks the time on his phone. _1:54._ Andrew’s flight lands in six minutes. 

They haven’t seen each other in… fuck, it’s been months. Four months since Andrew left Palmetto and flew to New York to play with the Cardinals, four months since the start of Neil’s final year with the Foxes. It’s the longest they’ve been apart since the winter of Neil’s freshman year. 

For the first two weeks apart, Neil tried to convince himself that he didn’t need to call Andrew immediately. He had spent almost every day with him; he could last two weeks without calling. But Neil was stupidly, painfully wrong-- even after a few days, he felt Andrew’s absence like a phantom limb, as if part of him was missing. 

Robin was the one who finally knocked some sense into him, after watching him mope around for days on end. 

“You’ve been together four years,” she said impatiently, slapping Neil’s phone into his hand. “Just call him already. You know he’ll pick up.” 

Neil turned his phone over in his hand. Logically, he knew Andrew was still in the same time zone. He was two and a half hours away by plane, eleven hours by car, fifteen hours by train. That wasn’t so far to travel. 

But the distance felt endless when they weren’t together-- he wanted to hear Andrew’s voice, he wanted the weight of his body next to him, he wanted his soothing presence, he wanted, he _wanted,_ and fuck, Andrew felt so far away. 

Neil pressed call decisively, hands trembling. One ring passed in aching silence, then the second, and--

“Neil,” Andrew said, and every muscle in Neil’s body slumped, remembering how comfortable Andrew’s felt, like he was slotting perfectly into place. 

“Andrew,” Neil said, relief washing over him. “Hi.” 

It was easier to understand their silences in person-- neither of them were particularly talkative people-- but it was nearing midnight before Neil finally realized how long they had been talking, and how much more he wanted to say. He had to blink to stay awake, already feeling much more settled and content.

“Go to sleep,” Andrew said, after Neil yawned three times consecutively. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Neil yawned, about to protest that he wasn’t tired and that he wanted to keep talking, and the next thing he knew, Robin was shaking him awake. 

“Was that so hard?” she asked smugly, with a shit eating grin. 

“Shut up,” Neil said, face flushing. “Go get ready for practice.” 

Robin flashed a smile in his direction. “Sure thing, Cap.”

* * *

The next three months passed much too slowly for Neil’s liking. Still, he and Andrew made a point of talking almost daily, snatches caught in between Neil’s classes and Andrew’s practices. 

Most times Neil called Andrew, but then there were the few scattered times where Andrew called Neil first: when the first recruiter showed up to one of the Foxes’ games, his eyes on Neil the whole time, when the Foxes soundly defeated the Ravens 7-3, and once, where Andrew just said plainly, _the apartment is empty without you here._

Neil rolled onto his back, pressed the phone to his ear, and whispered back, _everything feels empty without you here._

Homesickness was something that Neil thought he was unfamiliar with. Homesickness came with the implicit acknowledgement that there was a home, a place that was safe, that someone wanted to return to. Eight years on the run had taught Neil that there wasn’t a home for him to feel _homesick_ about.

But thought he could understand homesickness when he spoke with Andrew-- the bone deep longing he felt, so strongly it took his breath away, and began counting down the days.

* * *

It was the second to last game of the season when the Cardinals started slipping. It happened by the end of the first quarter; their striker made a bad call, stumbling against their mark, and the goalie fumbled the next three goals, losing points in rapid succession. When halftime rolled around, the Cardinals were down by two points, and the coach was chewing out the starting goalkeeper on the sideline, his face red from shouting. 

And at the start of the second half, the coach sent Andrew on. 

At first, he looked like a small, red-clad person in the goal, just one player against many. The striker for the Jets broke through their backliner with ridiculous ease, lined up for a shot. In one long, smooth move, Andrew’s racquet smashed the ball out of the goal, sending it up to the far right dealer. The dealer took six steps, passed it to their number seven striker, and in the first thirty seconds, the Cardinals scored the first goal of the second half.

Andrew shut down the goal for the rest of the game, all powerful swings and intense precision. Neil watched the whole time, glued to his computer, always excited at the rare times when Andrew put actual effort into his games. 

As soon as Andrew stepped off the court, heading back into the locker room, Neil fumbled for his phone. Andrew picked up on the third ring, and Neil grinned foolishly, pressing his hand to his face to try and smother it.

“You’re incredible,” Neil said, going red. “Just shutting down the goal like that-- amazing. You’re so amazing.”

“You were watching,” Andrew said, sounding slightly out of breath. Neil flopped back on his bed, holding the phone close to his ear. 

“Of course I was,” Neil said. “I always am.”

The distance between them stretched tight, like a taut rubber band, and all of a sudden, Neil was keenly aware of how achingly lonely he felt. He wanted Andrew there with him. He wanted Andrew’s presence, his reassuring weight by Neil’s side, and the homesickness reared its head. 

He looked at the date on his phone and sighed. 

Three weeks. He could make it three weeks.

* * *

Three weeks later, Neil’s sitting in Atlanta International Airport, just after two PM. He has one eye on the gate, where people are steadily spilling out of the airport, and another on the Arrivals board. The flight from New York just landed; they’re disembarking. Anticipation sends electric shocks throughout Neil’s body, and his knee jitters up and down. 

He feels a low rush of irrational anxiety-- what if things are different? What if he and Andrew don’t fall back into the same easy awareness of each other that they had in person? What if those four months between them drew them apart in more ways than physical? His anxiety writhes in his stomach like a live thing, flooding his head with buzzing thoughts.

He keeps watching the gate, eyes flicking back and forth, and he’s debating texting Andrew to ask where he is, when Neil sees a familiar blond head in the crowd. Andrew’s eyes find Neil unerringly, and before he knows it, Neil’s pushing his way through the crowd to get to him.

He stops when they’re only inches apart, and drinks in the sight of Andrew. 

His armbands are empty, he has a suitcase in one hand, his hair is slightly rumpled from the two and a half hour flight. His shirt has wrinkles that wouldn’t normally be there. He looks soft in a way Andrew doesn’t usually look, and he’s _so close_ after spending so much time apart. 

“Andrew,” Neil says breathlessly. “Hi.” 

“Neil,” Andrew returns. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of them, alone in a crowd full of people. Just like that, Neil feels more settled, like he’s finally easing back into his body. 

“Car?” Andrew prompts, after a moment. “I’m sick of airports.” 

Neil lets out a half giddy laugh. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

* * *

The second they’re alone, Andrew tugs Neil across the console, hand fisted in his collar. Their kiss is less fire and heat and more a quiet comfort, something that feels like belonging and _home._ Neil’s hands come up to frame Andrew’s face gently, and Andrew leans into the touch slightly, an admission of vulnerability that only happens around Neil. 

“I missed you,” Neil breathes out. He half expects Andrew to say _I know,_ or something else equally dismissive. But instead Andrew briefly closes his eyes, and says quietly, “I missed you too.” 

Neil exhales and leans in and kisses Andrew again, slowly and tenderly, and rests their foreheads together.

They’re going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos or a comment if u enjoyed!! stay safe lovelies, keep social distancing <3


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